


Shotgun Hunters

by Doctors_Imzadi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boggarts, F/M, Harry Potter References
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-17 03:09:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4649970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctors_Imzadi/pseuds/Doctors_Imzadi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchesters meet a Remington, and she schools them on the real monsters of the Harry Potter universe as their latest target is a creature that literally scares people to death.....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Goddamn it, Sam!”

                Dean Winchester was exasperated with his little brother. Again. Granted, the fourteen-hour car ride may have had something to do with both of their nerves being slightly – okay maybe more than slightly –  on edge, but sometimes it seemed that Sam was just _trying_ to be a pain in his ass.

                “For the love of _God_ , Dean!” Sam was just as exasperated. “So I messed up William Shatner and Ricardo Whatever-the Hell-“

                “Montelban!”

                Sam pursed his lips in annoyance. “It’s an eighties movie, Dean! All right?! Get over it!”

                Dean glared at his ignorant little brother. “Get over it?! For God’s sake, Sam! Everyone in the world knows that William Shatner played Captain Kirk, and Ricardo Montelban played Khan!” He shook his head in disgust. “It’s embarrassing, Sammy!”

                Sam rolled his eyes. “Embarrassing? _How_ is that embarrassing, Dean? How?! That I actually have a life and aren’t privy to every random nerd fact – ”

                “Hey!” Dean shouted, interrupting Sam once again. “Do not insult _Wrath of Khan_ , dude! That is American culture! To not know the difference between Shatner and Montelban that’s – that’s – that’s _un-American_ , Sammy! God!”

                Sam heaved an impatient sigh and smacked his head back against the headrest of the Impala. It had been _way_ too long of a drive. It was always way too long of a drive when they got into screaming matches over Star Trek…. He decided to drop that issue and try to bring up an easier topic of discussion. “So what exactly are we going after again?”

                “Well, no one seems to know,” replied Dean. “Apparently a bunch of people started swearing that they saw an embodiment of one of their greatest fears, and this embodiment would follow them around, popping up anywhere, until the victims died. No signs of trauma, no wounds…. As if they had died of fright.”

                Sam scowled. “Died of fright?”

                Dean shrugged. “That’s the story.”

                “Well, can you think of anything that could cause that? A ghost, maybe?”

                “Maybe. Not exactly your typical ghost M.O., but hey, stranger things have happened.”

                “Yeah. So how far are we?” Sam didn’t dare ask, “Are we there yet?”

                “Another hour, two at most.”

 

 

                Her ripped outer shirt caught on the door of the motel as she staggered in, nearly tripping her.

                “Oh, fuck you, too!” she grumbled, yanking her shirt and succeeding in tearing it completely off. She scoffed, not even bothering to take it off the door as she slammed it shut. With any luck, maybe room service would take it as a hint that she was having sex or something, and would leave her alone at the ass-crack of dawn. Throwing the keys to her ’69 Stingray on the small table, she shuffled to the mini-fridge and pulled out a beer, intending to down a couple while watching whatever she could find on the motel cable. Boggarts sucked ass, and all she wanted was to get tipsy, watch crap TV and pass out. She didn’t even feel up to showering at the moment.

                The sound of a purring engine caught her attention before she could make it to the bed. Curious, she crossed to the window and peeked out from behind the curtains.

                “Holy……” She whistled. The purr was coming from a breathtaking black Impala, a ’67 if she wasn’t mistaken. She stared at the car, waiting for the driver to step out. She was curious about who owned such a beauty. Two men stepped out of the car, and her eyes widened at how tall one of them was. The parking lot lights weren’t the greatest, so she couldn’t really make out their faces in the night, although the driver, who was also the shorter of the two – although it seemed weird to think of him as “short” in any respect; if her judgment was at all accurate, he easily cleared six feet and then some – had one hell of an ass….

                Danielle chuckled, happy that she could think of a guy’s ass being attractive, after the shit she’d been through that day.

                _Not cracked yet_ , she thought, turning back to her bed with a smirk. Flipping on the TV, it took her all of ten seconds to find one of the Harry Potter movies playing on a local station. Snorting with irony, she nevertheless settled in with it. _Dragons and David Tennant_ , she thought, _can’t go wrong with that!_


	2. Chapter 2

Dean was cranky. He hadn’t slept worth a damn in the rickety motel bed, and he was pretty sure his ribs had a hole gouged in them from a spring that had broken in the middle of the night and stabbed him in the chest. Sam seemed chipper and ready to go, which only served to make Dean even crankier, as he was the one who had insisted on taking the bed that had turned out to be a deathtrap in disguise. Clearly, the bed Sam had slept in was far more comfortable.

Giving their weapon supply one last glance-over, Dean slammed the trunk of the Impala shut with perhaps more force than was strictly necessary. “Come on, Sam!” he shouted to his little brother inside the motel.

                The sound of an engine starting up made him turn. His eyebrows went up at the sight of the back end of a ’69 Corvette Stingray speeding out of the parking lot. Bit of a wussy car in comparison to his Baby, but still a classic.

                “You ready?” Sam came out of the motel with a couple of coffees in his hands. Dean gave a slight moan of relief at the sight of the caffeine. Snatching the cup away from Sam with such force that he nearly spilled it, he gulped down half the contents without stopping for air, and then made a face as his mouth was scorched. “Ah!” he groaned, shaking his head violently to help dissipate the pain. “Well, shall we go interview some locals?”

 

                Dani sipped her coffee lazily, taking time to read through the local paper as she waited for her breakfast. She had offed one of the creatures the day before, and it would likely take some digging to find another one. When there was a nest, and one was killed, the others often vanished for a period in an attempt to cover their tracks, to convince any hunters that the threat had been eliminated so that they would leave town. Dani knew better.

                Over the radio and general chatter of the diner, Dani heard the sound of an engine. Glancing out the window, she saw that same beautiful Impala pulling in to the diner. She quirked an eyebrow and smirked, determining to keep half an eye on the passengers of that car.

                Sam and Dean made their way into the small diner. As Sam spoke to the hostess and got a table, Dean was busy scanning the crowd for potential candidates. His eye was caught by a young woman with auburn hair, sitting alone at a small table with a newspaper. His eyebrow quirked, thinking that maybe he would save interviewing her for last…..

                Dani watched the two men out of the corner of her eye. She overheard them talking and learned that their names were Sam and Dean. The names made her brain itch, as if she knew people by those names. Never taking her eyes off of her newspaper, she watched from her peripheral vision as they were escorted to a table and ordered breakfast. Aside from a general wariness to their demeanor, their drop dead good looks and beautiful car, they seemed a little boring. Not likely to help her find the next beastie she was after. Her attention on them began to waver, as she focused more on a story in the paper about a woman who swore that she had seen an apparition in her backyard.

                “Any flickering lights, or cold spots, anything like that?”

                Dani’s head snapped up so fast she kinked her neck. The taller of the two men – Sam, if she remembered right – was now sitting in the booth next to her, talking to an older man seated across from him. And he was asking questions about ghost signs…… Maybe it was a coincidence, but for him to have worded it exactly that way…… How the _hell_ would he know about ghost signs???

                “Excuse me.”

                Dani about jumped out of her skin, cursing herself at being caught off guard. She turned with a sniff, intending to give a death glare to whomever had snuck up on her. Instead, she found herself staring into the ridiculously green eyes of the shorter man. She tried to remember what she had heard his name was, but her brain seemed to have decided it was time for a vacation. She tried to say, “can I help you?”, but all she managed to do was gape like a moron.

                “Mind if I sit down a minute?” he asked.

                Dani gave herself a mental bitch-slap and gestured to the open chair. “What can I do for you?” she managed to ask _without_ stammering.

                “I’m with the FBI. Agent Noone.” He flashed her an FBI badge. “I’d like to ask you a few questions, if that’s all right.”

                Dani smirked, recognizing the fake badge in a heartbeat, not to mention the name of the lead singer of Herman’s Hermits. Still, she decided to play along. Why pass up the chance for some fun? “Go right ahead, Agent.”

                The man sat down with a slight flourish. Dani had the distinct impression she was being flirted with. He cleared his throat. “You wouldn’t happen to have noticed anything – weird – lately, have you?”

                Dani quirked an eyebrow. “Weird how?” she asked innocently.

                The man shrugged, attempting nonchalance. “Well, you know, anything like, say, flickering lights, cold spots, maybe you thought you saw something – strange?”

                Dani carefully guarded her expression. Whoever these yahoos were, they were definitely hunters. And they thought that they were after a ghost. Yikes.

                “Cold spots?” she asked incredulously.

                The man chuckled nervously. “Humor me.”

                Dani chuckled. “Sorry, _Agent_. I’m actually just passing through town, I’m not from around here. And, no, I have not noticed any – _cold spots_ – or whatever weird shit you’re talking about.”

                He smiled, making Dani’s heart skip a beat. “Well, if you do happen to notice anything….” He pulled his wallet from his pocket, and a card from the wallet. “Give me a call? Or, you know…. Whatever the reason.”

                Dani grinned in spite of herself. _Still got it_ , she thought. She took the card with a smirk. “You’ll be the first to know, Henry Eight.”

                Watching – Dean, she suddenly remembered – try to hold a straight face after calling him on his alias, made the entire trip worthwhile…..

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Sam and Dean spent most of their first day in town talking to the locals and doing research. As far as they could tell, this still seemed like a ghost with a weird MO. Dean was hoping they’d run into that young woman he had met in the diner, or that she would call him, but neither happened. The next morning, they woke up bright and early to head out to an abandoned factory that seemed from everything they had gathered to be the most likely place to find this thing. Dean eyeballed the dark navy Stingray still in the parking lot.

                “Huh,” said Sam, noticing his brother’s gaze.

                “What?” asked Dean.

                “Oh, just wondering. That girl at the diner that you seem so taken with said she wasn’t from around here.”

                Dean scowled. “So?”

                “So,” Sam smiled, thoroughly enjoying this. “If she’s just passing through like she said, it would make sense that she would stay at a motel, right? Maybe that car you’re drooling over is hers, and she’s been here the whole time.”

                Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut up, Sam!”

                “Well??” Sam laughed as Dean gave him a death glare.

                “Just shut your face and let’s go gank this thing!”

 

 

 

                It took about half an hour to drive to the factory, which had once produced motorcycle parts back in the 50’s. Now, the brick-and-metal building was covered in ivy, the faded yellow paint giving way to rust. Broken down motorcycles and other garbage littered the outside. They could see only one door, which was also rusted and posted with a “Warning: Do not enter!” sign.

                “Why is it always creepy abandoned buildings?” asked Dean, not liking the look of the place at all. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something felt… off. He’d learned to trust his gut, but no matter how closely he scrutinized every inch of the outer building, he couldn’t see anything that hinted at this being anything unusual. Well, unusual for them, that is….  “Why can’t we get one in a dance club, instead?”

                Sam gave his brother a look. “Because then you’d be too busy trying to get a private dance to actually pay attention?”

                Dean shrugged with a smirk.

                They dug out their rock salt shotguns, a few iron crowbars, and their EMF meters from the stash in the Impala’s trunk and slowly made their way into the building. The only light inside came from the clouded over windows, casting an eerie yellow tinge to the entire place. The concrete floor was cracked, with small tufts of grass growing through. The deeper in they went, the more Dean felt his spine tingle. Something was definitely off.

                “Anything?” Sam asked in a whisper.

                “No, nothing.” The EMF meter hadn’t budged. If there were no EMF readings, odds were the ghost wasn’t around. Or it wasn’t a ghost.

                “Is it just me,” asked Sam, “or does this place kind of give you the creeps? Like, more so than usual?”

                Dean wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that his brother had the same sense of the heeby jeebies that he did, or alarmed. “No, it definitely feels off. I gotta tell you, Sammy, I’m starting to think maybe we aren’t dealing with a ghost.”

                “Well what else could it be?”

                “I don’t know. And I don’t like not knowing.”

                They came to a closed door. Sam carefully tried the handle, and finding it unlocked, swung it open quickly and stepped into the room. He froze with a gasp.

                “Sam?!”

                Dean flew into the room, and saw what had paralyzed his brother. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to laugh or bitch slap him. “Wow. Really, Sam? A clown?”

                “Shut up!”

                Dean held the EMF meter toward the clown. Still silent. “Well, it’s not a ghost. Is it human?”

                The clown looked at Dean, and the gun that was pointed at it. It cocked its head, and began to transform.

                “What the…” Dean began to say, and choked on his words when he saw what was now standing where the clown had been. He swallowed hard.

                “A hell hound?!” Sam exclaimed. “What the f---“

                “I don’t know!” shouted Dean. The hell hound growled and began to stalk toward Dean. Panicking, he shot it with the rock salt gun. The thing let out a yelp, and its form began to shift from hound to clown and back, with a few other shapes that never fully developed, giving it a very weird, almost gelatin-like appearance.

                “Oh screw this shit!” said Dean, heading out the door. “Let’s get the hell out of here, Sammy!”

                “Right behind you!”

                They bolted through the building as fast as they could without tripping over each other. Rounding a corner, they skidded to a stop at the sight of the hell hound. Dean’s heart began to race.

                “Wait a minute,” said Sam. “Hell hounds can only be seen by the people they’re after, right?”

                “Yeah….” Dean had no idea where his brother was going with this, but he would really rather be running the other direction at the moment.

                “Then why do we _both_ see it?”

                Dean stared at his brother. He was right…. If this was indeed a hell hound, then only one of them should have been able to see it, if either of them. “And it changed into a hell hound after first being a clown,” he said aloud.

                “Exactly! So, what? Some kind of shape shifter?”

                The hound was stalking toward them. Dean backed away. “Maybe, but it’s not like any shape shifter I’ve ever seen, and I have no idea how to kill it!”

                Sam dug out a gun he had brought with on impulse and fired it at the creature. It snarled, the bullet having no effect other than causing it to limp a little.

                “What the hell was that?!” asked Dean.

                “Silver bullet,” said Sam, watching it continue to stalk toward them. Now its attention was focused on him, and it changed again. This time, it took the shape of a rather unimpressive man in his forties. Sam stared in horror.

                “Lucifer…” he whispered.

                “Hello, Sam!” the creature said with a smile. “Did you miss me? Because I sure missed you! We’re going to have all kinds of fun now!” He pulled out a knife etched with runes. “I’m going to carve you with this, and then kill your brother with it, and then maybe kill you…”

                Dean’s head was starting to throb. “Silver didn’t touch it, so it can’t be a shape shifter, but how the _hell_ do you explain that?!”

                Sam was hyperventilating. First a clown, then a hell hound for Dean, and now Lucifer. “Dean, what—what are we gonna do?”

                Dean was fighting panic. He had no idea what the hell this thing was, and no idea what would kill it. It had an uncanny ability to morph itself into—

                “I don’t know Sammy, but it makes sense now why all the vics seemed to have died of fright.”

                “It changes into people’s greatest fears!”

                They looked at each other. They’d found the creature they were after, all right, but they were utterly at a loss as to what it was, or how to kill it, or even get away, and now it looked like they were going to buy the farm….

                “Hey, jackass!”

                They and the creature turned toward the voice, but not before a shot was fired. The creature convulsed. Sam and Dean stared as it began shift haphazardly, once more developing that gelatinous appearance, before it burst, sending goo all over the place, including the two of them. They sat there gasping like morons, wondering what the hell they had just seen.

                “Bite off more than you could chew, boys?”

                Dean knew that voice….

                The auburn haired woman from the diner was strolling toward them with a slight smirk on her face. Sam and Dean stared in disbelief. Dean especially.

                “If you hadn’t noticed,” she continued, “it’s not a ghost.”

                “Y-yeah,” Dean stammered. “Yeah, we kinda got that. What – who - ?”

                She stared at them, covered in creature goop. “What do you say the two of you get cleaned up, and then we can chat?”

                They looked at themselves and shrugged. “Sounds fair,” said Sam.

                “Who are you?” asked Dean.

                “Call me Dani. Like I said, we can talk more after you aren’t covered in slime.”

 

                The three of them made their way out of the building, and Sam chuckled when he saw the vehicle that had parked next to the Impala.

                “What could possibly be funny right now?” asked Dean.

                “Oh, nothing. Just – remember what I said about that Stingray you were ogling this morning?”

                “Yeah….”

                Sam gestured. Dean looked, and his jaw dropped a bit when he realized that Sam had been right – the girl did indeed own that gorgeous car……

 


	4. Chapter 4

                They made their way back to the motel, Sam and Dean drawing several odd looks with their slime-covered appearance. Dean glared at each of them until they looked away. Dani was forced to bite her lip to keep from laughing at the whole scenario. Seeing Dean’s glare only made it all the more comical. Throwing her pack over her shoulder, she turned away before he could see her smirk.

                “Go take a shower, boys,” she said, keeping her mirth out of her voice with an effort. “Preferably not together, but if that’s your thing…. I’m in room 146 once you’re done.”

                They stared after her, Dean scowling, Sam in a silent, open-mouthed “What the f---?!”

                “I think someone’s a few fries short of a Happy Meal,” said Dean.

                Sam watched his brother stare at the woman as she walked away. He knew that look. He chuckled, rolling eyes. “Dean!”

                Dean snapped his head back to give his brother an innocent look. “What?!” he said in a tone that just begged Sam to accuse him.

                Sam raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

                Dean rolled his eyes and turned toward their room. “Shut up!”

                Sam chuckled softly, following his brother. Closing the door was a relief. At least now they were away from the judging stares of everyone who happened to pass by. Sam groaned as he began stripping off his slime-encrusted clothing. It had started drying, turning his outfit into a stiff, foul-smelling nightmare. He considered where they would wash this shit out, and thought perhaps it would be best to simply burn them instead. He was fairly certain they’d have to about drown themselves in order to get the stench out of their skin. It smelled rather like rotting flesh, and he was not ashamed to admit to himself that it was beginning to make him rather nauseated. He could _not_ get in the shower soon enough.

                The sound of running water made him groan and almost cry; Dean had beaten him to the bathroom. And he had a feeling he was in for a long wait….

 

                Dani looked at the clock. It had been almost three hours since they’d gotten back to the hotel, and the hunters still hadn’t shown up. She frowned. Maybe they had decided against trusting her. She glanced out the window, seeing the Impala still parked beside her precious. Then she chuckled. Maybe they were still trying to clean the sludge off of themselves….

                As if on cue, there came a knock on her door. Grabbing her sawed off shotgun, she went and looked through the peephole. A hunter could never be too careful. Seeing Sam (and not much else; the man was as big as a damned moose), she swung the gun over her shoulder and opened the door.

                “…your ass over here!” Sam was yelling. Dani raised her eyebrows as he looked at her sheepishly. “Sorry. Dean’s being a pain in the ass. Again.”

                “Shut your pie hole! You used all the hot water!” Dean’s voice sounded as though he was still several yards away.

                “You were in the shower first!”

                “How was I supposed to know how bad this shit stank?! I didn’t expect I’d need to drown myself _twice_!”

                Dani’s eyes grew big in amusement as she turned to let them enter. “Do you two always fight like an old married couple?”

                The door slammed. “We do _not_ fight like an old married couple!” Dean said indignantly.

                “Whatever you--- _say_ ….” She choked slightly as she turned and saw him. She could see why he had been lagging so far behind Sam; he had clearly just stepped out of the shower. She thought it likely that Sam had left before Dean was even _out_ of the shower. His black V-necked t-shirt was askew on his torso, clearly stuck on wet skin, he had droplets of water streaming down his neck, and his hair was a complete mess, as if he had simply taken a towel and ran it roughly and quickly over his head before he left. Dani swallowed hard and tried not to look as though she were staring, turning quickly away to set her gun down next to her bed.

                “Anyway!” said Sam, clearly trying to save the situation. “Shall we start with introductions?”

                Dani smiled, making a show of putting her gun down. “As soon as your brother takes the Colt out of his pants.”

                The brothers seemed caught off-guard at the implied innuendo, and Dani fought the urge to laugh at Dean’s face. He recovered quickly enough though, reaching back and pulling his M1911A1 from the back of his jeans, where he had tried to hide it under his still-clinging shirt. He gave an exaggerated, though genuine, smirk, setting it down on the small table and making a point of sitting down next to it. Sam stared at him in open-mouthed shock.

                “Really, Dean?”

                Dean gave him a look of genuine – though again exaggerated – wonder. “What?! Can’t be too careful in our line of work, Sammy.”

                Sam looked horrified, and Dani just chuckled. She was far from offended by Dean’s diligence. She was, in fact, pleased that he seemed to be sensible about such matters. After all, she’d kept her own weapon handy….

                “Relax, boys,” she said, crossing to her mini-fridge. “Care for a beer? Soda? I think there’s water in here somewhere.”

                “I would love a beer,” said Dean emphatically. Sam scoffed lightly. “Water’s fine for me. Thanks.”

                Dani handed out the drinks and sat on her bed. Sam took the lead. “So, you said your name is Dani?”

                “And you’re Sam and Dean.”

                “Sam and Dean Winchester. We’re brothers.”

                There seemed a slight emphasis on the word “brothers”, and Dani chuckled, remembering her joke. She’d long since gathered that they were brothers, just by their demeanor. But then something clicked, and she frowned slightly in concentration.

                “Wait… Winchester? Are you John Winchester’s boys?”

                “What if we are?” asked Dean.

                Dani chuckled. So these weren’t just some Joe Schmoe hunters; these were the almost legendary Winchesters. And John’s boys, besides.

                “John Winchester was one of my mother’s most trusted contacts in the business. She always said he was a hell of a hunter.”

                Sam looked at her curiously. “Who is your mother?”

                Dani’s face flickered in sadness. “Her name was Katherine Remington. I’m Dani Remington.”

                “I’m sorry,” said Sam, catching her expression and use of the past tense.

                Dean laughed. “Winchester and Remington? Really?”

                “Dean!” Sam glared at him. Too late, Dean registered what they were talking about, and felt like a total ass. He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry about your mother,” he said, belatedly.

                Dani smirked. Dean’s reaction had actually made her want to giggle. “Yeah, well, we all know what goes with being a hunter. I’m just thankful that she went peacefully, and didn’t live to see---“

                Dani stopped short, swallowing hard. She quickly changed the topic. “But yes, Winchester and Remington. She never got tired of cracking jokes about that. I think she and your old man even turned it into some kind of competition; each using shotguns made by the company with their names, and keeping score of how many kills each had.”

                Dean laughed. “Are you kidding me?! _That_ is why he always had tally marks on his Winchesters, but no others?”

                “I remember that, too!” said Sam, looking from Dean to Dani. “That was because of your mom?”

                “Yes! And my mom had the tallies on just her Remingtons!”

                The brothers laughed heartily. “I thought the name was all there was to it,” said Dean, his eyes starting to water. “That he had some obsession with how many monsters he ganked using a Winchester!”

                “So did I!”

                Dani joined their laughter. “No! He and my mom had a fierce rivalry about which “name” killed more things!”

                “You know,” said Sam, after catching his breath again. “I think I remember him making snide remarks about Remingtons a couple of times.”

                “I definitely remember him doing that,” said Dean, wiping his eyes. “He always laughed about it though, and I never understood what the hell he was talking about.

                “Well,” he continued, looking at Dani. “If your mom made that much of an impression on him, then you must know your shit pretty well. Only a damned first-rate hunter could have brought out that much competitiveness in our dad!”

                “Well, I’m still alive!”

                “So what the hell are we dealing with in this town?” asked Sam. “You obviously knew how to kill it, and it’s not like anything we’ve ever seen.”

                “I’m not surprised,” said Dani, rubbing her eyes. “They’re a relatively new species of creep, called boggarts.”

                Dean frowned. He certainly had never heard of a boggart before. He thought he remembered a vague reference to them being some kind of faery, but he had no idea whether that was accurate, or just an empty myth.

                “Boggarts?!” said Sam. “As in, like, Harry Potter boggarts?”

                Dean gave him his all-too-familiar “I am not impressed” look. “Really, Sam? Harry Potter? _Really_?!”

                “What??”

                Dani smirked. “Yes, actually, it’s more or less an accurate description.” Dean snapped his head to stare at her. “Are you kidding me?”

                Dani shook her head. “Of course,” she continued, “the real beasties are a lot nastier than Ms. Rowling’s version. They do indeed take the shape of your worst fear, but rather than just give you nightmares, these bastards will actually kill you. And they’re a lot harder to kill than just thinking happy thoughts and saying a magic word. You have to pierce it with a shell of compressed nitrous oxide.”

                Sam raised his eyebrows. “Laughing gas? Really?”

                Dani smirked. “Rumor has it, Ms. Rowling may come from hunter stock.”

                Dean was looking from Sam to Dani and back, feeling more and more confused. “Wait, wait, wait,” he shook his head and rubbed his eyes, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. “So you’re saying that some creature from a children’s book is actually based on _real_ monster?”

                “Harry Potter is not a children’s book, Dean,” said Sam. Dean glared at him.

                “When aren’t they?” asked Dani, quickly interjecting before they could start bickering again. “The point is, the bastards literally scare you to death, and unfortunately, the only way to kill them is by getting close enough to shoot it with a bullet filled with compressed gas, and as you can probably guess, that’s awfully damned close.”

                “How did you get so close then?” asked Dean.

                “You two were distracting it, it wasn’t focused on me.”

                “So it’s easier to hunt them when you’re in a group?” asked Sam.

                “Yes and no. You have to stay on your toes, otherwise it can lock onto one person and focus all of its energy on draining that one, and if that happens, you’re in even deeper shit because you have to try and break its concentration before it kills, and keep your own ass out of the fire at the same time.”

                “But you’ve killed them before?” asked Dean. “By yourself?”

                Dani gave a hard, chilling smile. “There seem to be limits to what it can morph itself into. And it would be damned hard-pressed to beat the shit I’ve dealt with in my life.” Her eyes clouded over, her gaze becoming unfocused for a moment. She didn’t want to even think of those memories, especially not in front of the Winchesters. The last thing she needed was for them to see her deal with _that_ baggage.

                “Well,” said Sam. “It seems like all things considered, we’re probably best off tackling this thing together. You obviously know more about taking it out, but you said there can be strength in numbers. So?”

                Dean nodded in affirmation, and Dani raised her beer in a toast. “Works for me,” she said. “Just be ready to deal with whatever demons haunt your nightmares in the meantime….”


	5. Chapter 5

                After a few more beers apiece, Dani and Dean made arrangements to get adjoining rooms in the motel. They had all decided that this would be a far more convenient arrangement if they were going to join forces. The hostess gave them a queer look down her bespectacled nose, as though she knew that they dabbled in strange and was disapproving. She looked so much like one of Dani’s old schoolteachers that Dani had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. Madame Mather, as she insisted on being called, was a pompous old toad whom Dani’s entire school hated and endlessly made fun of. Mather had been well aware, and was completely unruffled by it. She came from a blue-blooded aristocratic family in northern England, and was in a constant state of offence that her position in life was reduced to teaching lowly peasant American children. She of course decided to glean over the fact that she had been shamed out of England because she’d had an affair with the wife of the Minister of State for Schools. Madame Mather could do no wrong, just ask her.

                Once all of their gear and effects had been moved into the new rooms, they opened up the doors joining the two to make one big room, and supplies soon became scattered all over the place. They’d decided to spend the night just getting things organized and getting settled, and they’d take a crack at more digging the next day. Sam had finally broken down and joined the others drinking beer, and Dani was determined to drink his massive body under the table. Now they were trying to figure out a movie to watch.

                “ _Wrath of Khan_!!” the slightly inebriated Dean nearly shouted. Sam looked ready to crack a beer bottle over the elder Winchester’s head.

                “Why don’t we watch _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_ , and get you educated about boggarts?” Sam countered.

                “Oh fuck that!”

                Dani wasn’t even trying to keep from laughing anymore. Sam turned to her. “Don’t you think, Dani? You said that that’s the best starting place for learning about boggarts, shouldn’t we make sure Dean here knows what he’s getting into?”

                Dani decided to stroke the fire. “He’s got a point, Dean-o.”

                Dean’s bitchface made Dani roll onto her side in laughter. She and Sam laughed so hard and for so long, Dean eventually tired of it and decided to take it out on Dani. Dani didn’t notice him lean over her with his beer.

                “What the hell?!” she shouted as her torso was doused with the dark liquid.

                “Serves you right!” said Dean, returning to his seat.

                Frantically trying to swipe the liquid away, she was now having a hard time holding back the laughter at her state. “That was my last Guinness, you jackass!”

                Reaching for the ice canister, she snatched it and dumped it over Dean’s head before he even noticed her move. He spit out the icy cold water and stood up quickly in an effort to spare his crotch the agony that was bound to happen.

                “Son of a bitch!!”

                Dani fell backwards on the bed, laughing so hard she could hardly breathe. Sam leapt up and snatched the computer away from the water Dean was shaking out of his hair. He was starting to wonder if he shouldn’t beat a retreat into the other room and lock the intervening doors…..

                “Two can play at that game, Dean-o!” Dani managed to choke out. Dean glared at her for a split second before he pounced. Dani screamed as he landed on top of her, and the two began grappling on the bed. Sam stared in wide-eyed amusement. It was nice to see someone _else_ come to blows with Dean. Literally. “Should I leave you two alone here?” he asked through a hearty chuckle.

                His only response was an angry, pained shout from his brother. Before Sam could even realize what was happening, Dean was pinned on the bed under the woman’s knee, her other knee securely pinning his left arm while his right was twisted up behind his back in a manner that made Sam wince to even look at. Dani was grinning very wickedly as she leaned in toward Dean’s ear. “Bite off more than you could chew, boy?”

                He struggled frantically, but Dani had him pinned down very securely. When he struggled, she tightened his arm even more, eliciting a sharp cry from the seasoned hunter. “Give up?” she asked.

                Dean growled, not quite ready to give in. A slight increase in pressure changed his mind, deciding that broken pride was less painful than a broken arm. “All right! All right!”

                Dani bounced off of him in a flash, and immediately grabbed the offended arm and massaged the kink. Dean was ready to push her aside, but damn did the girl know how to use those hands. Maybe sometime, if he was lucky, she could use those hands elsewhere….

                Dean inhaled sharply at the unbidden thought, coughing slightly to cover his embarrassment. He should be royally pissed at this weird woman who had just handed his ass to him on a platter, but instead he found himself liking her. And the fact that she _could_ hand his ass to him meant that she was one hell of a fighter. He was no shrimp at close to six-foot-two, and thanks to his hands-on hunting, he was in damned good physical shape. He glanced at her as she finished smoothing out his arm and gave it a slight pat. She wasn’t short herself, and he could now see that she, too, was mostly muscle. She also had a confidence about her that conveyed that she knew what she was doing, but also a caution that showed that she was intelligent about her job, not cocky. Hunters who got cocky about their prowess usually found themselves a sticky, bloody mess sooner or later.

                Dani sensed his scrutiny and turned to look at him, mirth still evident in her eyes. Dean’s heart skipped a beat at the playful wink she gave him, but he chose to ignore it.

                “I think you need a shower, _Remi_ ,” he said with as much condescension as he could muster.

                “No thanks to you, Dean-o!” she retorted, already digging through her clothes for clean ones. She stuck her tongue out at Dean as she disappeared into the nearest bathroom.

                “You could do with a change of clothes yourself, you know,” said Sam, wiping the spilled water off of the table.

 

                Dani was still chuckling to herself in the shower. It’d been a good while since she had found people she could horse around with to the degree she’d been with the Winchesters, and she had to admit, she missed it. Dean was almost too easy to needle, and she found great entertainment in doing so. Sam wasn’t as high strung, though he made a great partner-in-crime for tormenting Dean. Dani wondered how it was that she was so comfortable around people she had only just met the day before. Still, they had already survived a hunt and the aftermath, and shit like that had a tendency to bring people together. If it didn’t tear them apart, that is. It was usually one or the other, and she found herself glad that she seemed to have found new buddies. God knows they were having enough fun, though Dean probably wasn’t too happy about the way she’d pinned him down. She peered at herself in the mirror, wondering if maybe she’d gone too far with the prank. She shook her head, dispelling the thought. If he was genuinely pissed, he wouldn’t have let her massage the sore arm, and Sam wouldn’t have been laughing his ass off.

                Speaking of, the boys seemed unusually quiet now. Maybe they had gone out to get the food Dean had been whining for. Thankful for a momentary respite, she threw open the bathroom door and bolted out of the horribly steamed-up room, taking a comb to her unruly wet hair. As soon as she was out, she thanked her lucky stars that she had decided to throw her clothes on first. Sam was nowhere to be seen, but Dean was standing on the other side of the room, digging through a bag on the floor. His bare back was to Dani, and she found herself suddenly and inexplicably unable to breathe.

                Hearing the door open, Dean turned to see Dani staring openly at him, but before he could smirk, he found his brain derailed at the sight of her hair. The shower had served to make it look an even darker shade of auburn, the red more obvious. It now had a wavy quality, water droplets dripping onto her shoulders. He also suddenly noticed that she had a shock of freckles, more noticeable under the bright light outside the bathroom. They stared at each other for a moment before they remembered themselves, both looking away and trying to act as though neither of them had just felt like all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.

                “Sam go to get food?” asked Dani nonchalantly.

                “Uh, yeah,” replied Dean, remembering the shirt in his hands and scrambling to pull it on. “You don’t mind cheeseburgers, do you?”

                “Love them!” she replied emphatically. She hadn’t realized just how hungry she had become, and her stomach growled at the thought of a burger.

                “Are you seriously going to make me sit through a damned Harry Potter movie?”

                Dani chuckled at his resigned tone. He may not have been happy about it, but he was willing to endure the agony if it meant better preparing himself for a hunt. She admired that.

                “To be honest,” she said, “I’d much rather watch _Wrath of Khan_. I haven’t seen that movie in ages!”

                Dean’s face brightened immensely, and he hurried to find it before Sam came back and raised a fuss. He was amazed that this woman would be into Star Trek, and suddenly found himself wondering whether she actually was, or if this was a ruse to apologize for her earlier ass kicking. He narrowed his eyes, deciding to test her.

                “I’ve got to say,” he said, “I really do love the scene when Captain Kirk sees the name “Chesapeake Bay” and realizes he’s on Khan’s ship.”

                Dani narrowed her eyes right back, realizing in an instant that he was trying to trip her. “You mean when _Chekov_ reads the name ‘ _Botany Bay_ ’??”

                Dean smiled, and her heart nearly stopped. She had seen him smile before, usually a cocky or sarcastic smirk, but this smile was genuine. And she had to admit, it was breathtaking. His entire face lit up with it, and his eyes took on a snap that they didn’t normally have. Dani found herself smiling in return, and they quickly flopped themselves onto the bed to watch the classic film. Sam returned soon after, took one glance at the television and groaned.

                “He threatened it was this or he’d watch anime porn,” said Dani with a shrug, not batting an eye.

                Dean smirked at his brother, impressed with how easily Dani pulled off the bald-faced lie. Still, Sam wouldn’t be as likely to throw a fit if he thought that he and this newcomer were faced with subjection to one of Dean’s more – eccentric – hobbies….


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised! So sorry for the hiatus, will try my best to post more often!

                Dani struggled toward consciousness and groaned. She actually had a headache, which meant that she had a hint of a hangover. She _never_ got hangovers. Apparently, drinking a moose under the table had consequences. She smiled to herself at the memory. She _had_ been able to drink Sam under the table, though he argued that since he never drank much, she had a strong advantage over him. Dean had simply laughed his ass off, and Dani was pretty sure that he would never let Sam live it down.

                Deciding that some aspirin was definitely in order, Dani got out of bed as quietly as she could. The doors between the rooms were still open, in fact she had fallen asleep in what was technically the Winchesters’ room; Sam was still passed out on the other bed. Apparently Dean had been resigned to take the bed in Dani’s room. Being that it was a much larger king size rather than the doubles in their own room, Dani sincerely doubted he minded much. Still, if she were to get her aspirin, she’d have to sneak into the room and hope she didn’t wake him. A quick glance at the clock revealed it to be 7:30, later than she usually woke up, but earlier than she’d hoped to sleep until.

                Creeping quietly into the room, she saw that Dean was in fact already awake, with his back to the door as he studied a computer screen with a book in his hands. The headphones he wore showed that he was listening to something, and likely not aware that she had entered. A quick peek made Dani snicker; he was both reading and watching _Prisoner of Azkaban_. Apparently he had raided her book and DVD collection. Creeping up as close to him as she could without her reflection being caught on the screen, she stood there for a good two minutes until she decided to blow lightly against the side of his head. Shivering, he caught sight of her in his peripheral vision and nearly jumped out of his skin, hastily trying to hide what he had been doing.

                “Relax,” Dani said quietly, not wanting to wake Sam. “The better idea you have of what we’re dealing with, the better we can gank them all. And don’t worry, I promise I won’t tell your brother.”

                Dean seemed to relax a bit, though his forehead creased slightly. “’Them all’?” he asked. “How many are there?”

                “Hard to tell,” said Dani, recovering her life-saving aspirin and popping a couple in her mouth. She swallowed them with a gulp of water. “A typical nest has around three or four of them; the biggest I’ve ever heard of is five. More than that and they either strike out to find or form their own nest, or they start feeding off of each other.”

                “Eesh,” said Dean, not wanting to know how creatures who fed off of fear managed to feed off of each other. “So how many are we at now?”

                “Your beastie was the second one. I expect there’ll be at least one, maybe two more. But offing two of them in as many days means they’ll likely hide deep, we may not hear any more for a week or two.”

                “So they hide when they’re being hunted?”

                “Survival instinct. They’ve learned that if hunters think that they’ve solved the problem, they’ll leave, and the beasties can feast once again.”

                “Oh, great! So we get to camp out for God only knows how long, twiddling our thumbs, is what you’re saying?”

                Dani gave him a smirk. “Why, Dean! Are you saying you’re already sick of my company?”

                “That’s not what I meant!” said Dean, a look of genuine concern on his face. He shifted uncomfortably. “I just don’t like waiting while there’s monsters to be ganked.”

                “You and me both,” Dani said emphatically. “But in this case, there’s nothing for it. Might as well spend the time studying up and trying _not_ to kill each other.”

                “There are other ways to spend time,” Dean muttered before he could stop himself.

                Dani quirked an eyebrow to hide the massive jolt her heart gave. “What are you suggesting, Winchester??”

                “What?” Dean looked flustered that she had overheard him. “I didn’t say anything!”

                “Mhmmm,” she murmured, not taking her gaze from him. She took great delight in watching him squirm in discomfort. Though of course, Sam chose that exact moment to make an appearance. His hair was in complete dishevelment, and he was clutching his head and groaning. Dani chuckled.

                “Aww, Sammy, did you bite off more than you could drink last night?” she needled at him.

                “It’s Sam,” he said in a whisper. His tone confirmed that he had one hell of a hangover. Dani felt vindicated that his hangover was obviously far worse than her own. Still, she also felt a twinge of pity, having had her share of vicious hangovers in her time. She reached for the aspirin and a bottle of water and smacked them into Sam’s hands.

                “Thanks,” he whispered faintly, quickly popping some pills and curling up on Dani’s bed.

                Dani chuckled once more and shook her head. “What do you say we leave Sleeping Beauty here to his nap, and we go get some grub?”

                “Sounds good to me!” Dean said emphatically, quickly tossing the book aside and closing the computer. “If I have to deal with any more of this fairy tale bullshit, I might just shoot myself.”


	7. Chapter 7

                Dean and Dani had a rather heated argument over which vehicle to take to the diner. They both agreed that it was silly to take both cars, but beyond that, both were absolutely dead set on taking their own precious. They finally decided to settle the score in the most diplomatic way possible: rock-paper-scissors. Dani was trying to pretend to be mad, but in truth, riding in the Impala was one hell of a treat. She had a soft spot for any classic car, and the fact that the driver of this particular classic was so damned attractive only made it all the sweeter.

                Once there, they both ordered huge breakfasts to help combat the lingering vestiges of hangover. Dean seemed to be faring better than Dani, she was somewhat annoyed to note. Then again, he probably had a good fifty pounds on her, and he seemed to be even more accustomed to copious amounts of alcohol. Dani pushed the annoyance aside and decided to just concentrate on the morning paper. Dean eyeballed her from across the table. “What’s up with your paper fetish?”

                Dani quirked her eyebrow at him from over the paper. “Keeping an eye out for anything that might give us a clue to the beasties we’re after. Or anything else that falls into ‘hunter sights’, shall we call it.”

                “You get a lot of jobs that turn into other jobs in the same town?”

                “Not often, but it has happened occasionally. It’s usually just something minor, a restless spirit or minor cursed object. But it can be enough to keep me busy while I’m waiting around for the real payday.”

                Once their food arrived, neither said much as they busied themselves stuffing their faces. When most of his plate had been cleared, Dean sat back and sighed in contentment. “So,” he said, pausing for effect. “What’s your story? How did you and your family end up in the business?”

                Dani took a deep breath, debating how much to tell him. “Well, I think it started when my grandma’s house was haunted. My mom’s mom. Apparently the previous owner of the house she lived in had died in a fire, and was still hanging around. He wasn’t a problem at first, but then he began going down the road of vengeful spirit. Broke my grandma’s 12th century china set, boy did she throw a fit!” Dani chuckled at the memory. “My mom was an adventurous little brat, so she learned how to get rid of ghosts. Twelve years old, and she went and dug up a grave and salted and burned the fucker’s bones. That’s how it started.”

                “And she never tried to get out? Twelve years old, and she decided to become a hunter?” Dean was incredulous.

                “Well, one thing led to another, and I think she did try to get out once she was married and had kids.”

                “You have siblings?”

                Dani’s heart caught in her throat. She hadn’t meant to let on about that, but it had inadvertently slipped out on her. She took a deep, strained breath. “I did.”

                Dean’s eyes went from confusion to comprehension. “Is that how you wound up in the business?” he asked softly.

                Dani looked at him, her eyes hard with pain and repressed anger. “It’s how I _stayed_ in the business. My mom made sure that I knew basic Hunter 101, she took me on some easier hunts and made sure I’d be able to handle myself in your typical run-of-the-mill supernatural experience.” She took a deep breath, and decided to trust him. “Myself and my older sister.”

                Dean said nothing, simply watching her with a soft yet attentive expression. Dani sighed.

                “Her name was Haley,” she began. “She was four years older than me, but, she wasn’t all there, you know? Special needs, they call it now. She was such a sweetheart….”

                Dani’s eyes wandered out the window as she remembered. She forced her mask of detachment into place as she continued. “She was smart. She understood the basics of the life; our family hunted monsters, kept her safe, don’t tell people about it because they wouldn’t understand and we don’t want to scare them.

                “She was always so damn proud of me. Her baby sister, growing up to be a hunter. Our dad died when we were young, so it was just us and our mom. Mom made sure I knew enough to take care of Haley when she would leave for her hunts. She’d leave us in motels or safe houses, whatever was convenient.”

                “Sounds like me and Sam, with our dad,” said Dean. “It was just the three of us, our mom died when Sammy was a baby. He raised us in the life, and when he’d have to go on a hunt, he’d dump us wherever was handy, and I had to take care of my little brother.”

                Dani smiled sadly. “It sort of becomes who you are, doesn’t it?”

                Dean nodded, saying nothing. His mind was already wondering what he would do if he lost Sam, for good…. He likely wouldn’t keep going as well as Dani seemed to be.

                “Well, after Mom died, it was just the two of us. I didn’t hunt as much, though I did love to read up on lore and stay up on what was happening. Haley was my primary concern, but I figured it wouldn’t do me much good to get rusty, so every so often I’d arrange for her to stay with other hunter families while I went out. And one day I hunted a demon….”

                Dani’s composure broke. She closed her eyes in anger, in pain. That damned demon….

                Shaking herself, she turned her attention back to Dean. “I hunted a demon, but I fell short. I winged him, but he got away. And he decided to take it personally.” Her voice broke again, and she looked out the window into the distance.

                “What happened?” asked Dean softly.

                “He decided to get back at me. I don’t know how long the bastard must have followed me, but one day I happened to not be wearing my anti-possession charm. He possessed me, but not to just possess. He wanted to find out what it was that I held most dear, and destroy it.”

                Dean’s stomach dropped. He felt like he already knew where the story was going. He wasn’t surprised, but it still sickened him to the core.

                Dani took a shuddering breath, forcing the pain away. This was something she had practiced. Endlessly practiced, honing her ability. She pushed the pain away and allowed icy hatred to overcome her. Cold, hard, calculating; that was how she would eventually hunt down that demon and destroy him.

                “He possessed me, and in doing so, kidnapped Haley. He used me to torture her. And as far as she knew, the baby sister she loved so much now hated her. Hurt her, endlessly. And the demon took such _great_ delight in making me watch. Watch myself torture my sister, watch her torn apart by my apparent betrayal.”

                Dean suddenly felt as though his breakfast might make an unwelcome reappearance. He had heard of fucked up things before, but this?? This was dirty, even for a demon.

                “He also took great delight in prolonging it. He’d leave me, the two of us locked in separate rooms, and go do whatever the hell he did. Give Haley time to heal, just so he could come back and start all over. And it went on like that for over two years, until Haley’s body finally gave out. He left me then, and when I went to my sister to try and comfort her, she just stared at me in horror. Screamed, begging me to leave her alone. To not hurt her. She died absolutely terrified of me.”

                Tears were running down Dani’s face in spite of herself. She held her hatred close to her heart, the only thing helping her keep it together. Dean simply stared in shock. He had never heard of such depravity. This was something that the demon Alistair might conjure in the depths of Hell, not something a topside demon would do. He thought of what he would do if he had to undergo such an ordeal with Sam. He shuddered, deciding that his forty years in Hell were probably easier than what Dani had been through. Impulsively, he reached across the table and grabbed Dani’s hand, holding it tightly. He could never do anything to ease her pain, but at least he could let her know that right here and now, she wasn’t alone. Sometimes that was half the fight.

                Dani took his hand gratefully, in truth a bit surprised at the gesture. She had heard rumors that Dean Winchester had spent time in Hell; she wondered if that were true. Glancing at him, she saw her pain reflected in his ridiculously green eyes. “Sound like Hell?” she asked in a half-joking tone.

                He scoffed lightly. “Yeah, actually, it does. Maybe worse, even. I never had to watch myself do that to Sam.”

                “Just my luck,” said Dani, ice returning to her voice. “I get the one bastard who brings Hell to Earth. I can’t wait to pay the son of a bitch back!”

                Dean was impressed by her resolve, and in all honesty a little intimidated. Dani must have had one _vicious_ sense of vengeance to have overcome such horror and be as - well, as level-headed as a hunter could be. Then again, if he had been subjected to such an ordeal, maybe he would be the same way. “Well, I tell you what,” he said, “once we clear out these ‘boggarts’ or whatever the hell you call them, if there’s anything I can do to help you gank that bastard, you give me a call, okay?”

                Dani gave him a small smile. “Thanks, Dean.”

 

 

                On the way back to the motel, Dean told Dani a bit of his own history. She learned more about the legendary John Winchester, and how she and the boys had had rather similar upbringings, though from entirely different circumstances. She found herself liking the elder Winchester more and more; for one thing, he hadn’t turned tail when she told him about Haley, nor had he smothered her with pity.

                They were both smiling as they entered their giant double room. Sam wasn’t in Dani’s king sized bed anymore, apparently he had managed to move back to the other room.

                “Hey, Sammy!” shouted Dean as he set down the breakfast he had ordered to go for Sam. “Wake up, Sam, we got you food!” He crossed the room to the door joining the two rooms. “Sam?”

                Dani followed, a bad feeling growing in her gut.

                “Sam, where the hell are you?” Dean shouted.

                Looking into the other room, Dani saw no sign of Sam. Dean checked their bathroom, and Dani hers, but there was nothing. Dean scowled and pulled out his phone. “Sam, where the hell did you take off to?” he muttered under his breath.

                A vibrating sound led Dani to Sam’s phone, laying on the floor next to the bed, underneath some blankets. She picked it up and held it for Dean to see.

                “He wouldn’t go out without his phone,” said Dean, a worried look on his face.

                Dani’s eyes bolted to the floor, searching for any sign of struggle or clue as to Sam’s whereabouts. Lifting the blankets, she saw a dark smudge on the floor and felt her stomach drop.

                “Dean!” she dropped to floor, grabbing a stick that was lying on the bedside table. Poking at the smudge, it came up dark and gelatinous, just like---

                “Is that boggart juice??” Dean asked in a panicked tone. “How the hell is that possible? Where’s Sam?!”

                Dani’s face went hard. “They’ve got him. The boggarts have him.”


	8. Chapter 8

                Sam’s head felt groggy. He wasn’t sure how much of that was a result of his hangover and how much was a result of whatever those creatures had shot him up with. He struggled to stay conscious, to get some bearing on his surroundings. So far all he had been able to deduce was that his hands were chained above his head, and he was in a cold, dark, damp room, industrial, if he wasn’t mistaken. Vaguely he wondered if he’d been taken back to the same building where he and Dean had first seen the boggart.

                A loud clanking noise made him start, though he quickly recovered and attempted to look as though he were still unconscious. Perhaps if the thing thought he was still sleeping, he would be spared the torturous visions.

                Someone or something shuffled in front of him, and he heard soft muttering. He strained his ears, but the sound was too muffled for him to make anything out, and the little bit he did catch, he was fairly certain was in a language he didn’t understand.

                He went over again what had happened that led to this. He had been sleeping off his drinking spree when room service had entered. Only, it wasn’t actually room service. He had no idea what had happened to the actual motel worker; he could only hope that the boggart had simply pilfered a uniform. They had put a bag over his head before he could even react, then one had hit him over the head, and he came to a little while ago in this place, wherever that was. He combed his brain, trying to remember something, anything from the few precious seconds between when he woke up and when the bag was put over his head. He thought he had seen something strange about this boggart’s eyes, but he couldn’t be certain; everything had happened so fast.

                 The shuffling in front of him began again, and he risked opening his eyes a slit to try to see what he was dealing with. He could only see one person – or thing – though it certainly looked human enough. It appeared to be a heavily muscled man, with a military buzz-cut and greasy tank top with a loose-fitting long sleeved shirt. He was seated in front of what appeared to be a workstation of sorts. Sam watched through slit eyes as he tinkered with something mechanical, grunting as he made adjustments to it. Setting the equipment down in a box underneath the desk, the man took off his sleeved shirt and turned his attention to Sam. Sam took one look at the strange, tattoo-like markings on the man’s arms and saw the eerie blue glow in his eyes, and came to the sluggish realization that this was no boggart….


End file.
